


Not the Chosen One

by swordsandshields15



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Cheating, F/F, Heartache, Heartbreak, This is not Swendgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:37:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swordsandshields15/pseuds/swordsandshields15
Summary: It’s taken me some time to realize, but now I know for sure. I am a supporting character in my own story. I’m not the villain anymore. I’m not the hero. I’ve let myself fade into the background... I’ve let her become the main character of my story. I’ve let myself become a side character to their story.





	Not the Chosen One

It’s taken me some time to realize, but now I know for sure. I am a supporting character in my own story. I’m not the villain anymore. I’m not the hero. I’ve let myself fade into the background.

She still comes over at least once a week to keep “family night” going, even years after Henry rode through a portal to find his story. It didn’t take long, not even a month, for us to go from reminiscing about the old days to kissing passionately on my couch to spending all night in my bedroom.

I love the sensation of her hands in my hair, holding me close as I lick and suck and slide my fingers into her slick heat. I love feeling her arousal seeping out onto my sheets. Her moans and sighs make get me so wet. She was slow and deliberate at first tonight, almost overly emotional, but now she’s grinding and riding my face and fingers. An observation pops into my head.

“Mmmm, you taste different tonight,” I say in a breath between tonguing her clit.

I feel her stiffen for a moment, but then she laughs and tells me she’s been eating more veggies. I doubt that. I roll my eyes and push my tongue into a small point, fluttering it over her small bud then lightly sucking it into my mouth. I strain to watch her cum for me, her chest and neck getting splotchy red as her orgasm creeps nearer. In the moment, I can’t imagine not being with her like this. 

She pulls me up her body as soon as her climax subsides, kissing me deeply and thrusting two fingers into me. I ride her hand, mouthing her neck, licking, sucking, nipping. Her other hand cups my breasts, squeezing and flicking my nipples. I feel her everywhere.

“God! Yes, Emma,” I moan. “I’m close. Fuck!”

The hand on my breasts moves to my clit, sliding up and down just to the side. Fuck, just how I like it. She knows how to make me cum. Those two fingers curling as she pulls them out. I can’t even focus on marking her neck now. Jesus, the feeling of her breath in my ear as she says the dirtiest things to me. And then she changes the tone, and it throws me over the edge.

“You’re so fucking sexy. Fucking my hand like this. Feeling your wet pussy drip down my wrist. Fucking you so good. You don’t even need to scream my name when you cum. I know I’m all that exists to you right now. You’re gonna cum so hard. Your tits feel so good in my hand. Fuck, you’re so wet. You like it when I flick your clit. Fucking your g spot. I love you, Regina.”

She stays all night. We hold each other and wake up in each other’s arms. Sometimes in the morning, we’re the poster children of domesticity. I make the coffee while she makes eggs. But this isn’t one of those mornings. She gets up and starts getting dressed while I go to turn on my shower.

“I have to meet Hook at Granny’s in 10 minutes. I’ll have a coffee waiting for you!” She calls out while I’m under the hot spray.

I prep myself for best friend mode. Smiles and friendly conversation while we pretend to suffer from the after effects of last night’s sleepover excuse of “having too much to drink”. I step out of the shower and use my magic to complete my morning routine.

I drive to Granny’s, walk to the door, and try to adopt a slightly hungover attitude. I walk in and see them sitting together. I feel myself bristle at the “side piece” thoughts that always manage to whisper in my mind as I walk to their booth. She has my coffee waiting, as promised, and a blueberry muffin. And that smile with bright eyes that I never seem to notice happens for anyone else. Not even him. Sometimes I think I’m the lucky one she’s chosen to bless with that smile. And, fuck, it feels like enough.

We make it through the morning pleasantries. Hook makes a comment about my wine gluttony, and I feel like our cover story has shifted for the morning. So, I roll my eyes and remind him that he still smells of last night’s rum. We say our goodbyes as I head to my office and they head to the sheriff’s station together. I keep my eyes on her for our customary last look after a night of lovemaking. He’s kissing her temple and talking to her. Then his palm flattens on her lower abdomen. She pushes his wrist away and says something quickly.

Oh.

She looks back at me. I lower my eyes to her stomach then back to her face. She lowers her eyes to the ground then turns from me. They never stop walking.

Oh.

I’ve let her become the main character of my story. I’ve let myself become a side character to their story. I watch them walk away together, arm in arm. I see her laugh at whatever he’s just said. I understand wanting to jump through a portal to start a new chapter. I realize that in her pirate she has her reformed villain and her sidekick. She has her family.

And, smiles aside, I am not her chosen one.


End file.
